


Threesome

by ghostburr



Category: Amrev - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostburr/pseuds/ghostburr





	Threesome

Aaron watches the other man dance with greedy eyes as black as sin. The lights, shimmering and iridescent on his head and body are drawn to Alexander, the opposite of moths and flames. He sucks in the light, draws all attention onto himself, tilts his head back and laughs. The noise is drowned out by the music, loud and pumping, a solid, hard beat pushing him to dance further. The black eyes, from their vantage point at the bar, are far too haughty to ask for a dance. 

Alexander grabs the nearest girl, shapely, beautiful, with long hair and green eyes. He pulls her into his chest and places his hands on her waist, spins her around as she giggles. This is her favorite song, she motions, and the Nevisian nods, lies, it’s his favorite song too. She turns her back, her long hair moving with her body, grinds into him—a beautiful nameless creature for him to flirt with.

Alexander is an expert and always has been. Knows precisely what women want because he wants it too.

The black eyes blink, a pale hand flicks a cigarette; Aaron has never known jealousy. Opens his mouth and takes a drag. Another woman notices him staring.

“Are you alright?” 

Aaron turns his head slowly, drunk and dizzy and smiling. “I am. And you?”

The woman spreads her mouth into a grin, red lips and shocking white teeth and pixie hair. “You’ve been staring. You look high.”

Aaron laughs at this. “I assure you, I’m not.”

“You’ve been watching that man,” she inclines her pretty, symmetrical head and features towards the Nevisian, “are you together?”

“We are.” Aaron answers without pretension, without thought, without hesitation. Pixie-hair moves closer, sensing a friend. 

“He’s getting awfully close to that girl,” she warns. A clink of a glass and she is drinking something green. Or perhaps it is pink. Or red. Or colorless. The strobe lights flicker like butterflies, changing every color and ever person into something else.

The black-eyed man, as solemn and dangerous as a reverend, leans in closer.

“He likes to make me jealous.” Tropical blue eyes catch his from from across the dance floor. The familiar excited flip of the stomach, and Aaron takes another sip. Alexander keeps his gaze on his companion, and his hands wrapped tightly around the woman’s shivering waist. Do you see what I can have?

“He likes to make me jealous, thinks it makes him more desirable,” the black-eyed man swirls his drink lazily. In truth, he is burning. “I like to watch him.”

Pixie-hair giggles and downs her own beverage. “So what are you two? Gay? Some kind of swingers? What is it?” Her lipstick is only slightly smeared.

Aaron doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to. He loved women and always had. But when souls are indistinguishable from sex to sex there was no comparison. He walked toward the Nevisian.  

\----------

A rustle of sheets and he has the wild tropical spirit right where he wants him. Wrists pinned, back stretching and hot against the cool, clean sheets. 

“We have company.” Alexander flashes the trademark pointed cat’s grin, eyes purple in the darkness. Aaron watches the man beneath him for a moment, still burning. He indicates his grin towards a soft presence behind them. The woman from the bar—long hair, green eyes, shapely. 

The general heaves a heavy, longing breath. Opens his mouth and kisses dangerously as the woman stands behind them, watching, waiting. Dressed in nothing but a man’s silk dress-shirt, and Aaron didn’t care if it was his or Alexander’s, as long as it continued to hang off her shoulder just so. 

“What is this?” Aaron asks into the freckled, wet neck. 

“I can’t have her. She wants me but I can’t have her.”

Alexander’s logic was nearly flawless, nearly all the time. But when it was wrong, it was catastrophic. Aaron trailed his mouth up towards the ear, the jawline, the lips. Tongue spreads them apart, moans, bites. The city lights flicker outside the large window, yellow against indigo, and the woman steps closer. 

“What do you mean, my little poet?” The black-eyed man whispers and faces him. 

“I want you to have her,” Alexander answers and he bares his soul, “I want to watch you.”

Aaron feels him harden at the suggestion and a soft hand with manicured nails scrapes down his back. A woman’s soft laugh and flowering scent hits him suddenly and he turns to gaze at her. Back to Alexander, and his glistening eyes.

“I want to watch you,” he repeats. “Don’t disappoint me.” Pouts playfully. Aaron could never say no to him. He turns again and grabs the woman, laughing, lays her down beside the general who looks on with lurid interest. 

“He said you were skilled,” she purrs. 

Aaron allows the blue-eyed man to live vicariously through him for two hours. A touch here, a slap there, a stinging welt that was sure to leave a mark. Alexander breathed, yearned for control, murmured demands into Aaron’s ear so wicked he felt the female body in his arms grow weak with pleasure as he exacted them. He was, for all intents and purposes,  Alexander’s puppet slave, and played his role well. 

Two hours, nothing more, excellent muse.


End file.
